I'm Your Lolita
by Jake Nickleby
Summary: "Make me beautiful! All I want is to be beautiful!" she pleaded, tears of desperation glistening in her eyes. "Oh, I can make you much more than that..." Pitch Black has been drawn to this young girl because her strong dreams were so entertaining to taint, but as time passes, she becomes accustom to the nightmares he casts upon her. Pitch uses her immunity to his advantage.
1. Back in Business

Disclaimer: All characters, events, and material related to _The Guardians of Childhood_ and _Rise of the Guardians_ are owned by William Joyce and DreamWorks Animation.

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Currently looking for Cover Art commissions.

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Chapter One: Back in Business

Golden sand lit up the bedroom, causing the painted walls to glow a warm pink. It had been that way ever since the owner had occupied the room, and for as long as the Sandman had been bestowing beautiful dreams to the girl in the bed who snuggled further underneath the covers. She smiled softly in her sleep, images made from the golden Dreamsand danced above her head.

As one hour passed on to the next, she continued to dream of hope, wonder, and precious memories. An airy sigh escaped from her as she laid there happily, unsuspecting of the ominous figure emerging from the darkness. He was a monster of a man children believed to hide underneath their beds, ready to strike fear in their tiny, good-natured hearts. In one lifetime, he was known as a valiant soldier, Kozmotis Pitchiner. In this lifetime, the children labeled him as "The Boogeyman", but he preferred the name Pitch Black.

Pitch loomed over the girl, a wicked grin wanting to form on his lips. It started as a routine visit like any other, turning Dreamsand from golden to black. Still weak from a humiliating defeat, the dark figure lurked underneath the beds of children in hopes of finding one who was afraid. Afraid of the dark, afraid of being alone, _something_ that he could feed off of.

He remembered her when she was younger, before his last downfall. She used to dream of riding unicorns then. Now, four years later, she dreamt of other pleasurable things, those that come with age. Teenage dreams were so peculiar. Always full of infatuation and pining... He stared at her, watching her flinch at her nightly dose of nightmares. How quickly does a vibrant dream like hers turn on her so drastically. The sight was simply delicious, and he was savoring every little bit of it.

It was because of her that he was able to retain what little strength he had. Not even that Jamie Bennett was able to give him that luxury. Jamie... That little, lying brat. He said he believed in him, only to run right through him minutes later. No matter. _This_ was much more entertaining, watching a friend of the boy's. To make it more interesting were the hidden feelings she possessed for the other child. The nightmares he was able to create from those thoughts were simply too easy; the possibilities for tainted dreams were endless, and therefore he had reason to visit her again tomorrow night.

"Dear child, you've put me back in business..."

* * *

The skies were overcast, but all of the high school underclass students waiting for the morning bus were surprisingly in a good mood. It was only the beginning of December, but they were already excited for holiday break towards the end of the month. Everyone, except for one. Unlike the other bubbly students waiting, Cupcake stood to the side listlessly at the bus stop. Jamie noticed right away.

He strayed away from Pippa and Monty, who were talking animatedly about the essay topic in their Comprehensive English class. That didn't seem to be too much of a problem, as Jamie was mostly listening in on their conversation. It was amusing to see how passionate the two teenagers were about their academics, but he had little to contribute to the subject at the moment. They wouldn't miss him if he stole himself away from the group in order to check on the older girl.

"You okay, Cupcake?" Jamie asked, eyebrows furrowed with concern.

"M'fine," she muttered, her head remained hanging down. She couldn't even bring herself to look Jamie in the eye. "Just didn't get much sleep last night."

He believed her, at least he wanted to, but her eyes stayed haunted. Cupcake's condition worsened as the month progressed. Cheeks hollowed, dark circles underneath her eyes... It was painful to see how awful she looked. Jamie kept checking on her, asking her if she was all right, but her response was always the same.

"I'm fine."

Christmas didn't feel the same for Jamie, as he constantly fretted over how Cupcake's health would reshape without him being able to monitor her every day. Even when holiday break was over, there were days where the fifteen-year-old wouldn't come to school, and the absences became more frequent by the time it was the end of January. Still, Jamie would never fail to watch over her. No matter how redundant it gotten, he asked... until finally one day she lashed out.

"I'm _fine_, Jamie!" she snapped.

"You're getting worse," Jamie indicated. He was the kind of kid who was unafraid to tell the truth, so long it helped others. Cupcake was that person in need, and he would do anything in his power to relieve her of her depression. Though the polite questions of worry weren't being affective, so now he had to be blunt. "I'm worried."

"Well, _don't_ be!" she blew up. "You think you can do it all, save everyone from their problems."

"I want to help you," he declared, unyielding.

"I don't need _help_, Jamie Bennett!" Cupcake yelled furiously before storming away the defeated freshman.

* * *

Jamie mulled over a single thought for three whole days before he made up his mind. He was going to apologize to Cupcake.

"You shouldn't have to be sorry, man!" Claude protested when Jamie told his friend of his plan. "If anything, Cupcake should be the one to apologize!"

"I know," Jamie said humbly. "But you know how she is, Claude. I'd rather be the one to ask for forgiveness than to be the one to let her burn a bridge."

"Wow," Caleb breathed in astonishment.

"What?" Jamie responded, confused by his friend's reaction.

"I didn't think Cupcake's friendship meant so much to you," his friend admitted.

The youngest fourteen-year-old looked a little crossed. "Doesn't it matter to you?"

"I guess..." Caleb trailed, his eyes shifting passively away from the other boy.

Jamie sighed. He knew he should've gone to Pippa and Monty for advice instead. He knew Claude and Caleb wouldn't be very supportive. They were definitely great guys, but they didn't feel very close to Cupcake as he did. After all that they've been through together, he couldn't understand why they didn't want to try saving Cupcake's friendship.

* * *

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely.

Cupcake stared at him, looking more surprised than angry. "What?"

"I said, I'm-" he started to repeat, but Cupcake cut him short.

"No, I heard," the sophomore said. "But why?"

"For bugging you... about... Cupcake?" Jamie's explanation faltered when he doubted that the older girl could hear him, looking lost in her thoughts.

"Sorry..." she muttered, unable to look at him. Jamie really disliked this new behavior of hers, how she wouldn't- _couldn't_- make eye contact with anyone when she was demoralized.

"Why don't we start over?" Cupcake snapped her head to him. He could see the faith inside her being restored through her wide, brown eyes. She broke away from his gaze momentarily, embarrassed. A light blush surfaced her cheeks to represent her shame. Jamie mustered a little smile to deflect her self-consciousness, and continued, "You think you'd want to hang out sometime?"

Cupcake slowly looked at him. "Yeah," she said softly, trying to replicate his smile. "I'd like that."

Jamie's smile grew wider, and more genuine. He could almost feel the hope radiating from her freckled, ivory skin. It was a shame that her rediscovery of hope distracted him from sensing the darkness trying to continue to overtake her heart.

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End of Chapter One

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Author's Note: Since I have a habit of trying to think of story ideas while trying to fall asleep, this story was the outcome of needing a nap at eight o'clock in the morning and randomly getting The Veronicas song, "Lolita" stuck in my head. Most, if not all, of the themes in the lyrics supported me into creating the plot. Even at one point, lines were extracted and used for the chapter titles. This song was on a loop while this story was written. It got a little tiring listening to it over and over, but nothing kept me more motivated than the feel of this song.

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23 June 2013


	2. Immunity

Information on depression and anxiety, mental health, sleep tips, sleeping pills, sedative antidepressants, Mirtazapine, and healthy body image comes from the Mayo Clinic Foundation for Medical Education and Research website. Quote borrowed from _A Day with Wilbur Robinson_ is by William Joyce. Quote derived from _Rise of the Guardians _producer Christina Steinberg can be found in _The Art of _ _Rise of the Guardians_. For disclaimer on _The Guardians of Childhood_ and _Rise of the Guardians_, please refer to chapter one.

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Warning: This chapter contains mentions of depression and anxiety, usage of prescribed medication, brief language, mentions of struggle with body image, manipulation, and mention of blood. Please read cautiously if you are sensitive to this type of content.

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Currently looking for Cover Art commissions.

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Testimonials for Chapter One:

"I think your story has great promise and your written style will further fuel it. And in teams of rating, if you think it needs to be changed then go ahead, I won't hold it against you and I doubt anyone else will too :D I look forward to the next chapter too." - vixen1991

Thank you for the feedback, _vixen1991_! Thank you to _Guest_, _Pumpkin Kuro_, _Flaming Kitten_, _Dixie Darlin_, and _SailorXPrincessXHalloween_ for the reviews! Thank you to _Annabelle4.0_, _vixen1991_, _Dixie Darlin_, and _SailorXPrincessXHalloween_ for adding to your list of Favorite Stories! Thank you to _Makokam_, _Saphirabrightscale_, _Pumpkin Kuro_, _Flaming Kitten_, and _SailorXPrincessXHalloween_ for adding to your Story Alert! Thank you to _SailorXPrincessXHalloween_ for adding my pen name, Jake Nickleby to your Favorite Authors and Author Alert, as a result of this story! I genuinely appreciate all of your support.

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Chapter Two: Immunity

What a _good_ way to celebrate the new year! He was starting to feel like his old self again, and it was all thanks to his little dreamer. Pitch stalked through the darkest shadows of the room, noticing the frail child clinging onto her stuffed unicorn, a childhood memento she held onto for times of comfort.

Christmas came and went, a holiday he typically despised, but it turned in his favor when the annual festival brought the girl no wonder. Her dreams were ceasing, and her hope was decaying. Her most cherished memories were clouded over, and wonder was lost. And fun? Don't even ask, because it already died long ago.

Every time the girl stayed home from school, he would gain even greater power. After all, staying home meant more sleep. More sleep meant more time for nightmares. So Pitch began to show himself to her in her dreams. Soon she will start believing in _him_, and not those wretched Guardians.

The sick days began to increase until she was absent every single day of the week. Her mother had taken her to see a doctor, who only prescribed her some measly sleeping pills. Pitch smirked wickedly at the idea. It would take so much more than some pesky tablets to keep him away.

The rosy hue of the room that the light caused to bounce off the walls landed on his face, creating an eerie illumination on the surface of his sickly grey skin. It used to be much brighter when Dreamsand filled the inhabited space, but his visitation had notably dulled the color after a couple of months.

He had been visiting her for months now, watching her spirit slowly deteriorate as the nightmares invade her dreams. Black sand swirled around her head like a storm cloud. However, there was one simple miscalculation in tonight's procedure. Her expression was too serene... Why wasn't she afraid? He leaned over her, observing every little detail of her sleeping form with a critical eye.

The little dreamer twitched. Pitch took one step away from the bed, standing still in case she woke. It only took a few moments later before she was once again unmoving. He advanced into his original position, sloping over her like a vulture. His golden eyes flickered up at the nightmare dashing madly above, then back to her. No... she was still too calm for his liking. This had to change.

A long, slender finger reached out to her, grazing against her cheek. The black sand shifted at his touch. Yes, that's it. Change the fear. Let it grow. "Feel your fear," he spoke his thoughts aloud. "Come on," he coaxed, guiding the black sand to encircle above the teenage girl's head. "Come on, that's right."

She rolled onto her back once the black sand completed its transformation. The stuffed unicorn fell off the edge of the bed, landing on the floor below with a light yet audible _thud_. "Yes-s-s. What a pretty little nightmare."

Pitch waited for her mannerisms to adjust, leering in anticipation. But then... nothing. Her reaction remained unchanged. His smile was wiped away by his confusion, just as he moved in closer to check the girl over.

Suddenly, her hands flew up to his face, pulling him close to hers. Her lips met his, pressing tenderly into the fleshy edges. His eyes widen with shock, as he noticed her eyes were still closed. She _must_ have still been asleep! He was certain! She was in the middle of a nightmare, and she never woken from a nightmare he cast upon her before. No one ever did.

The girl eventually released her grip around him, and let her head fall back on the pillow beneath her. Pitch resumed studying the girl. A smile of amusement slowly surfaced on his pallid lips. "Why, my dear Cupcake," Pitch said in his silky voice. "I see you're becoming immune."

She stared at him, her eyes were still fogged with sleep. Delicate fingers twitched as her hands rested limply on her pillow. He could hear her steady breathing; his only response to his statement was the sound of her sucking in the sweet, fresh air through her pink, parted lips. She was too exhausted and tormented to speak back.

His expression stayed constant. "Well, then. I just might have other plans for you."

* * *

When Cupcake woke up, she was numb. Her dreams lately always left her that way, no matter what was presented to her. Whatever she dreamt about, it always ended in heartache. She prayed and pleaded to have sweet dreams. She fought and struggled against the darkness until her energy was drained and her voice was hoarse. Then she would wake up, unable to get out of bed.

Her mother phoned in her absence every morning, much to the office's thinning patience. The secretary said that if her truant of a daughter didn't return to her classes soon, then the officials would drop her from the system, and file her record as "discharged". It came to her mother's decision to withdraw Cupcake from school, and find a make-up program that allowed her to finish tenth grade in her own time.

"It's just like homeschool," her mother explained. "And if it feels like a good fit, you can complete the rest of high school like this. But if not, you can go back to school when you start your junior year."

Cupcake's mother was always supportive. She remained bright and optimistic for her daughter, but Cupcake regretted feeling the sense of great fear in the woman. Her sickly daughter had been bedridden for a month's worth, and the doctor didn't even know _why_. Of course, the doctor never admitted to that, but the verdict given must have been wrong. The fifteen-year-old girl was diagnosed with "sleep deprivation", or possibly some other form of parasomnia, but the woman worried that her daughter needed more serious attention. Over-the-counter sleeping pills seemed too easy of a solution to be true.

She had every right to be concern. The sleeping pills weren't working. At first it had, giving her a week's rest, but then she slipped again, worse than before. Cupcake was slowly fearing sleeping, and of the dark. Her mother called the doctor, but gave no new method to assist Cupcake's condition. Just plenty of bed rest, and a different type of sleeping pills if needed.

It wasn't right. None of the drugs had a lasting effect. As soon as it began to kick in, Cupcake's body would create a resistant to it. Her mother pushed for another analysis, and this time, they got a new result. Cupcake was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. Feeling defeated and humiliated, Cupcake made no statement about this news. The doctor explained that depression was a medical condition that she shouldn't judge herself for having, and prescribed her some sedating antidepressants to alleviate her ailment.

At first, Cupcake was reluctant to take the medication. Mirtazapine had a history of increased thoughts of suicide in young clients, higher risk of getting infections, and causing daytime sedation. The side effects were a concern to her, worried she would deal with weight gain as a consequence. She already struggled with weight-related issues, now she was going to take a drug that could potentially cause her to eat more and get fatter? Dizziness, headaches, and prolonged drowsiness didn't sound very appealing, either. It wasn't until her mother pleaded to just give it a try when Cupcake began taking the antidepressants. She was surprised that it had performed better than any of the other sleeping pills.

She started making an upturn in her behavior. Sleeping didn't bother her anymore. She didn't fear the dark anymore. Relief washed over her mother. Her baby was finally improving, even if the girl's recovery was still gradual. She was comforted knowing that her daughter was regaining her strength. She was even well enough to freely move around the apartment without feeling fatigued or nauseated from getting out of bed.

Cupcake adopted a new bedtime schedule, and stuck to it instead of forcing herself to stay awake during the night like she had been doing for the past several weeks. She no longer slept with the covers drawn up to her chin nor did she ask her mother to leave the bedroom light on, but she caused the poor, single parent to still have one more troubling thought... Why would a fifteen-year-old be afraid of the dark?

If only her mother knew that her daughter wasn't recovering from her illness; she just wasn't susceptible to it anymore.

There was this... man, dressed all in black, always _there_, lurking in the shadowed corners of her mind. He would allow her to be held in his arms as he whispered unsettling things into her ear. The words hurt, but it was a small price to pay for the consolation of his embrace. He was the only constant she had anymore, and somehow she took comfort in that. If the darkness was her only dependable source of company, then it shall be her tranquility.

He reminded her that she was all alone, that outside her apartment door, no one would ever give her the time of day. Her friends were too caught up in their own little world to notice that she stopped showing up at the bus stop, or wonder why her name was skipped over on the attendance list in the very few classes they shared with each other. If they really cared, they would've come seen her. They would've at least wondered why she was gone.

She slowly began to harbor a deep, dark hatred towards them. Though what was more dangerous for Cupcake than not knowing _why_ she had these sensations, was the fact that she did not know she had them at all. It was never a conscious thought she could reason with, only the underlying sensation of contempt that couldn't be persuaded. More harm could be done with instincts like these. The damage was nearly complete. One more break, and her soul would be shattered.

Every night she rest her head, anticipating the arrival of the shadowed man. He told her things that hurt, but he told her because he cared. The truth hurt, and he was the only being who didn't shelter her from it. She wanted him to hold her, kiss her, love her. Because even though she felt wounded when she was around him, he was the only person to make her feel wanted.

Her father, Cupcake remembered, was a loving and affectionate man. She was very young when he left his family, fearful of them witnessing the progression of his illness. The last time she saw him was one that she remembered, despite how young she was. He came into her bedroom, and hugged and kissed her goodnight.

It was a happy memory, though it brought many tears soon after. Years later, Cupcake tried so hard to remember every detail of that moment. She never wanted to forget what her father looked like, or the way he cared for her. Though she tried not to recollect her memories of the morning after, where she found her mother sobbing on the couch.

"There, there..." the darkness soothed, running his long, slender fingers through her hair. "He left because of you, you know."

Those words were the final break. The last of her most cherished memory was stripped away from her, but she didn't cry. Her body and mind were completely numb by this point, as if sorrow nor happiness meant nothing in the world. Nobody cared anymore. No one ever cared. But _he_ did...

"Stay with me," she softly requested, placing a hand sensitively on his arm. "Just for a little longer?"

Gently, he kissed her on the top of her head. "Tomorrow is another night," he answered with a voice as soft as hers, but much richer. His words sounded so smooth and deep, as if she could taste the darkest of dark chocolate running along her tongue as she heard the speech resonating in her ear.

The man wasn't merely a figure in her dreams. He was _real_, and he was close enough for her to touch. He never noticed, but she knew he was there. Once, when the nightmare was ending, she saw him disappear in the dark shadows of the room. Oh, how she wanted to beg for him to stay, for him to hold her and love her... to let the nightmares be _real_.

If he wouldn't make her dreams come true, then she would make it so herself. So last night, when he thought she was asleep, she laid there and waited to make her move. She allowed a part of her mind drift to sleep, which was needed to draw him close to her. She clung onto her stuffed unicorn to make herself look innocent and unsuspecting. After all, she needed it before when she _had_ been afraid of the dark. It would be the perfect trick to bring him to her without suspicion.

He was there, she could feel it. Black sand circled above her head like a floating crown. This was it. This was her moment to shine. She wanted to show him that she didn't fear, that she _embraced_ it. She needed to prove that she belonged to him, to his nightmares. She was going to give him a reason to stay.

Cupcake involuntarily trembled at the force above her, causing him to move away from her. Damn it, she wasn't suppose to be driving him away! In a matter of time, her body calmed down, and he was hovering over her again. He made subtle noises of confusion and discontentment. She could tell that he disliked how she was unaffected by the nightmare.

She felt his long, slender finger graze against her cheek. The sand felt thicker, and she did her best to fight off the sleep while still _pretending_ to be asleep. Acting proved to be harder than she thought. The magic he held over her was so powerful, but she had to be strong. She had to show him that she was able to withstand it. She knew she deserved so much more than the nightmares.

"Feel your fear," she heard him murmur to her sleeping form. "Come on. Come on, that's right." At the sound of his voice, she rolled onto her back. She purposefully dropped her stuffed unicorn on the floor. "Yes-s-s. What a pretty little nightmare."

If she didn't do anything soon, he was going to disappear back into the shadows. No, he couldn't leave! Not after how hard she worked to lure him close to her. She had to take a gamble. Relaxing all of her muscles, she laid perfectly still. It wasn't long before he bent over her bed. She could feel him hovering over her, mere inches away. Her plan worked. Then she made her move, lips on lips. Her delicate hands held his head in place, but he didn't try to pull away after that first initial shock.

Cupcake held a fierce grip around him, deepening the kiss for as long as she could, but soon she lost the strength to hold onto him. She collapsed onto the bed, arms splayed out on her pillow. Her fingers spasmed, but otherwise she could not move.

"Why, my dear Cupcake," he spoke with that seductive voice of his. His leer on her slowly intensified. "I see you're becoming immune." She said nothing in return, too weak to verbalize. All she could do was breathe. "Well, then. I just might have other plans for you."

Just like she wished for, she was all his.

* * *

It was a Friday afternoon on an overcast late-March day. Cupcake wandered out of her room, still dressed in her fluffy and brightly colored robe. Her mother left a hot bowl of tomato soup for her on the kitchen table. Their exchange with each other was silent as Cupcake sat down at her place at the table. They've gotten used to with this routine, with Cupcake eating lunch at home in her pajamas when typically she would be studying geometry from behind an uncomfortable desk chair.

Though truthfully, even though Cupcake was content with staying hidden safely away in her home, a part of her wished she was still in school, just so she could feel normal again.

Picking up her spoon delicately, Cupcake dipped it into her bowl. She swirled the liquid around to cool it down. Meanwhile, something out of place caught her eye. Without moving her head, Cupcake's eyes trailed across the flat, wooden surface. Her gaze landed on a small, brown box was placed at the center of the table.

"Where did that come from?" she mumbled, taking a sip of the steaming soup on her spoon. She slurped a bit while waiting for her mom to respond, wondering why she bothered asking. It wasn't like she was _really_ curious; she just asked the question without thinking.

"Jamie dropped it off before school started," her mother explained, pride resonating in her tone. Cupcake barely caught the satisfied smile on her mother's face. Why was she so pleased about that?

"Really?" she said around another spoonful of soup. She sounded unimpressed, but it secretly struck something in her.

"Mm-hmm," her mother answered. The happiness in her voice hadn't faded. Cupcake really didn't understand it. "He's been coming by every week to see you."

Every week? She only half believed it. "So, what's in the box?"

Her mother smiled knowingly. "See for yourself."

Cupcake watched her mother move into the little kitchen until she was out of sight. Her attention returned to the little box on the table. Carefully setting her spoon down with a delicate _clink_ against the rim of her bowl, Cupcake extended her arm across the table until her fingertips brushed the cardboard walls. The bottom of the container slid on the polished wood surface, causing a subtle, yet awful scraping noise.

She leaned back into her chair, holding the box close to her chest. Slipping her forefinger underneath the top flap, she lifted it up to reveal a mound of thick, creamy frosting. It was colored the softest, palest pink she could imagine, sprinkled with glossy white sugar pearls, and topped with a fresh strawberry cut in half and glazed with a homemade syrup. Cautiously taking the baking good out of its package, she studied the entire product carefully.

Cupcake took a bite, one with equal amount of cake and frosting. As she licked her lips of the remnants of pink cream, she was surprised to find herself nearly crying. Just one mouthful of the divine dessert instantly made her feel... happy. Had she really been sick for so long that she forgotten what it felt like to be happy? She took another bite, feeling her hope being restored. All it took was a taste from the best cupcake she ever ate.

Then she reminded herself, it was a cupcake from _Jamie_. Tears started to well again, and Cupcake wanted to scold herself for it. It seemed so stupid to get so emotional over a little detail like that. Did it matter where she had gotten the treat for it to taste all that much better? After a moment's thought, she decided that yes, it did make the taste sweeter.

No one made the effort to help her. The school didn't understand her situation. They didn't care if she was sick or not. They only cared whether or not she showed up in order to maintain their funding. Her friends never called her or came by her apartment. Even the doctor didn't try to alleviate the problem at first. But she was wrong when she thought that nobody cared at all. There was someone who did care. Jamie. And who else better to relate to her than someone like Jamie? Both of their mothers were spirited and hard-working since they lost their husbands, struggling to make ends meet to provide a warm, safe, and loving home for their children.

She had no idea that he had been trying. Her doctor had given her pamphlets about her conditions. One of them talked about supporting family members and friends who have depression. Talking to the affected person about the changes they've seen and why they were worried, wanting to seek help for them, and being patient. Everything it listed, Jamie had done. Why had she been so blind to his help before?

When he asked her about hanging out, they later agreed to meet on Saturdays at his house, but she was gone for the whole month of February. Cupcake barely ventured beyond her bedroom during this course of time, never knowing that Jamie kept his promise the entire time. It would seem that her mother had to politely turn him away with every attempt of a visitation, but he never gave up trying.

By March, Cupcake was getting well enough to return to her life normally. She still hadn't returned to school, but her recovering strength allowed to walk around the town on her own. Some of the shop owners would give her strange looks, wondering why a teenage girl was browsing their store instead of attending class. Others came to understand her situation, even if they were assuming what it could be, and left her alone to look around in peace.

After one bite from that gourmet dessert, Cupcake felt an abundance of energy begging to come out of her. She didn't want to be cooped up in the apartment for a second longer. "Mom?" she called, trying to not let her voice sound so weak. "You think I could go out today?"

Her mother looked shocked at the sudden proposal, then her expression melted into something both hopeful and concerned. Her heart swelled at the thought of Cupcake being well again, but her protectiveness of her stopped her from yielding to her daughter's simple wish. She comfortingly wrapped her arms over her chest as she slowly walked over to the table, and tenderly placed a hand on the side of the girl's face. "You're really feeling well enough to go out?"

Cupcake nodded, desperately hoping her mother would agree. "Mom, please..."

Her mother hesitated, pulling herself away from the fifteen-year-old. Her arms once again enveloped around herself protectively. She had a hard time saying no. "You should really finish your homework."

"I'll be at the bookstore," Cupcake informed. "I promise I'll be back in two hours."

Her mother took a long time to respond, or at least it felt that way. Cupcake was highly anticipating a favorable answer, but her mother was getting comfortable with their peaceful silence. Finally, she leaned down and gave her a light kiss on her nose. "Dress warmly," was all she requested.

Cupcake barely even _thought_ the words, "thank you", let alone said it to her mother. Not that she was ungrateful, but that she was overjoyed by the approval and too eager to go outside. Racing to her bedroom, she stripped off her robe and pajamas. She fumbled through her drawers for a worn-out graphic tee shirt and a knee-length skirt. Slipping on a pair of brightly colored tights and a lengthy cardigan sweater, she quickly checked herself over in the mirror. She quickly debated whether or not to bring a scarf, but ultimately decided against bringing one (it was cool yet humid outside). Once she laced up her brown leather boots, Cupcake practically flew out the apartment.

The apartments above _Kice's Bait & Tackle_ shop were right on the corner of Burgess Street and Main Street. It was the start of the busy part of town, where all the businesses were. Many of the residents liked to go for walks (either with each other or with their pets), or having picnics in the park. During the weekday, it wasn't so busy out, with the majority of people going to school or work. Sales didn't pick up until three o'clock, when most schools let out and rush hour started.

Cupcake liked to venture out in the late morning, once all of the shops were open but had very few customers. That was, of course, if she didn't sleep in. Some days she wouldn't be able to explore the town. On those days, she wouldn't bother going out if she deemed it too late in the day to bother leaving. Today would have been one of those days, but she could no longer have herself stay inside.

In the back of her mind, Cupcake reminded herself that she could run into someone she knew on the street. The excitement of being caught quickened her heart rate. She was hoping she would see her Jamie on his way home from school, but yet she wasn't quite ready to face him. If she ever abruptly decide that she wasn't ready to face anyone yet, then she had to hurry; it was already two-thirty in the afternoon. Then she would have to cut her time down to a stingy half-hour. Her pace quickened as she rounded the corner of the building.

Cupcake went browsing in _Fickle Fingers of Fate Bookstore_. It was smaller than _Burgess Books_, which was four buildings down and across the street, and it didn't have as much of a wide variety, but she somehow felt more comfortable with the rare, recycled books of fantasy that lined the long shelves. Plus, it was in the building next door to her apartment, only two stores over. If her mother suddenly wanted her back home, she could easily get back before she was missed.

The ringing of the bell attached to the door caught Cupcake's attention away from the world within the book she read. The traffic on the street gradually became louder when she was halfway through her book. Cupcake glanced at the clock mounted on the wall behind the cash register. It was already past three-thirty. Where did the hour go? She shelved the book she was reading and moved towards the window to take a glance outside. Hopefully the streets weren't too crowded yet.

Lifting her head, the whole stretch of the street came into Cupcake's view. Then she saw him right through the store's large window pane, standing on the street corner. Her heart somersaulted in her chest, and a rush of delight and panic washed over her. She ducked behind a shelf, trying to catch her breath. Of course she knew she could run into him here. It was after school hours, and she was half-expecting to, so why would she think she wouldn't?

Cupcake peeked through the window, consciously staying hidden from behind the shelf. A part of her bugged her to go over to him and thank him for the cupcake, but a bigger part held her back. No, she changed her mind. She wasn't ready to see him, or _anyone_, yet. Deciding she should stay hidden in the bookstore until he left, Cupcake sidestepped to take cover behind the wall.

Though as luck had it, her movements were too quick, and she slammed right into a nearby customer. The force startled them both, and caused the customer to drop a couple of books. Cupcake mumbled an apology, still haven't seen the person she bumped into. She patted herself down while the other scrambled to pick up the dropped books, then finally Cupcake turned to see the other affected individual.

Cupcake's heart sank when she saw who the patron was. Of all the people she couldv'e collided with, it _had_ to be someone she knew. She had _just_ decided that she wasn't ready to encounter any of her friends. Obviously, the girl standing next to her felt differently about their situation.

"Cupcake!" Pippa squealed. Her eyes and smile were bright and wide with rapture once she saw her familiar. "I've missed you!"

"It's, uh, good to see you, too..." Cupcake tried to reciprocate the friendly gesture, but failed to match Pippa's enthusiasm. Her eyes shifted to the door, puzzled over the fact that she hadn't even seen or heard Pippa walk into the store.

"I've been meaning to call you," Pippa explained, looking a bit guilty through her tired smile. "But school's got me swamped. I've been enrolled in this scholarly contest for an essay I wrote, and it got submitted to a district-wide competition."

Cupcake looked Pippa up and down. Her hair, colored like spiced gingerbread, was neatly combed and held in place with a thin hairband. The lavender sweater she wore was wrinkle-free, and her blue jeans fitted her long legs just right. There wasn't even a single scuff mark on her black ballet flats, or holes in her mint green socks. As always, Pippa looked as impeccable as her immaculate personality.

"No big," Cupcake played it cool. "I probably wouldn't have been able to answer, anyway. Bein' bedridden and all..."

"I'm so sorry, Cupcake," Pippa sympathized, shoulders drooping slightly at the older girl's pitiful announcement.

"It's okay," Cupcake assured, acting standoffish to her situation. "I've been feeling much better now."

"When are you coming back?" Pippa wondered, appearing optimistic.

"Whenever I finish the make-up program," Cupcake mumbled her answer.

"Soon, I hope," Pippa expected. "Will we see you before the school year ends?"

"Probably not." She shrugged. "Next school year, maybe..."

Pippa made a small humming sound as acknowledgement, but otherwise didn't say anything else in response. Their conversation faded, leaving both girls to shuffle their feet awkwardly during the short period of silence. Cupcake took another peek out the window, carefully staying out of sight from the town outside. He was still there, talking on the street corner with Claude. For a moment, she had forgotten about Pippa standing right by her.

"Cupcake?" she said in a hushed voice from behind. "Do you think I may ask you something?"

Cupcake snapped out of her thoughts and turned to face Pippa. She stared at her dumblly before she regain the composure to answer. "It depends," she responded, her face completely deadpan. "What's it about?"

Pippa smiled shyly. "It's about you, actually."

Cupcake gave her a disgusted face of skepticism. "Me?"

"Yeah, you," Pippa said confidently, but kept her voice quiet for only Cupcake to hear.

She incredulously raised an eyebrow. "What about me?"

"Do you like Jamie?" Pippa asked, restraining herself from blurting out her speculation too loudly. She bit her lip in anticipation, waiting to hear something auspicious, but Cupcake was reluctant to say anything. Maybe she needed some reassurance. "You can trust me."

Cupcake looked away, unwilling to answer at first. She would rather die than admit her true feelings to anyone, especially to someone like Pippa. Her eyes darted around the bookstore as she tried thinking of everything to sidestep Pippa's simple question, but found no way out of answering. Cupcake sighed defeatedly, and turned her head towards the other girl. Keeping her gaze low on Pippa, she nodded sullenly.

There was a moment delay while the answer was being taken in. Then the slimmer girl breathed out a sound of pure glee. Pippa's face lit up, bouncing in excitement. Her hands flew up to her head, grasping onto her short, brown tresses as a display of her delight while she continued to spring in place. "I knew it!" she giggled quietly to herself.

Cupcake glared at her. "I hope you're not getting any bright ideas. You spread this around, and I'll-"

"Oh!" Pippa cut off her threats when she made a conscious show of composing herself, but her giddiness was still visible underneath her poise. "My lips are sealed," she promised, moving her fingers across her lips as a visual.

Cupcake's hard stare softened, and she sighed heavily. "I'm not like you, Pippa," she lamented. "I'm not smart, or pretty, or... or perfect..."

"Oh, I wouldn't count yourself out yet, Cupcake," Pippa insisted. "You'd be surprised."

"Yeah, right," she rejected, glancing down at her body. Disgusted, Cupcake gestured to herself. "Like who can possibly _like_ all of this?"

"Cupcake..." Pippa whispered forlornly. "You're not..."

"Yes, I am, just _say_ it!" Cupcake uttered with detestation. "I'm fat!"

"No, you're _developed_," Pippa redefined.

"That's not what I hear," Cupcake mumbled. Everyone wanted what Pippa had. Brains, a rosy complexion, gorgeous auburn locks that brushed against her shoulders, and a tall, lean frame. Pippa's desired qualities and looks were the complete opposite of what Cupcake had. Average intelliengence, pasty skin, dull and lifeless hair that only reached halfway down her neck, too-wide hips, and unlike Pippa, her breasts were _way_ too large. Who cared that the younger girl was a little flat chested? To look that thin was to die for.

Pippa gave her a stern look, the one she gave to others when she was on the brink of losing an argument. It was usually a look she had to reserve for stubborn Cupcake, who really needed to hear her side of the story. If only she could get her to accept what she knew, if she could get her to understand what she was thinking.

The both of them were on the track and field team together in middle school. While all of the other girls were still wearing training bras, Cupcake had to wear underwear built for a completely matured body. The students would comment on her well-toned muscles through whispers while they changed in the locker room. Most of the remarks weren't necessarily negative, but sometimes it gave that vibe. It was middle school, after all. It was the cruel nature of its existence.

The insecurities of middle school and society's twisted perceptions of beauty left Cupcake to have a predjudiced perspective on herself. Even a lot teens at their high school would probably not consider the girl attractive now, but Pippa noticed the sophomore blossoming into a ravishing young woman. She predicted that Cupcake would turn heads and drop jaws at prom in two or three years. It was a shame that very few people acknowledge Cupcake's appeal; even Cupcake herself was blind to her own attraction. Then again, Cupcake looked a little heavier than she normally did. Maybe all that inactivity had left her feeling lethargic.

"You're lucky to have curves like those," Pippa did her best to convince. "All the freshman girls are _jealous_ because of your figure."

"Yeah, _so_ lucky..." Cupcake murmured sarcastically, avoiding eye contact with Pippa.

Pippa frowned. She never knew anyone in her life who was as stubborn as Cupcake was. No one has ever proved to be more willful than she was. How was she going to get her to believe her? Getting to persuade her was more challenging than she thought. She glimpsed out the window, and suddenly her expression flickered to something mischievous.

"Maybe we should get a second opinion," Pippa suggested with an impish smile. She slipped through the entrance, propping the door open with her extended arm.

"Don't you dare call him over-" Cupcake warned, but Pippa was already waving her hand to get the boy's attention.

"Jamie!" she called out, her voice sweet and light like a melody. When she saw the boy turned his head in the distance, and registered recognition of her, Pippa slipped back into the store. They both could see him crossing the street from their peripheral vision.

"Why'd you do that?" Cupcake whispered heatedly, but Pippa crept behind her. Before she could ask what the other girl was doing, Pippa placed her palms firmly on her back and gave her a friendly push towards the door.

"Just go talk to him!" she whispered urgently. Cupcake was about to argue with the younger high schooler, but the shop bell rung as Jamie walked through the door.

"Hey, Pippa..." he greeted without lifting his head. "I thought you were-" He stopped himself when he looked up, finally seeing Pippa was not the girl standing in front of him. "Cupcake!" He looked so surprised, yet elated, to see her.

Cupcake gave no greeting, too paniced to say anything back. Pippa moved to the side, beaming proudly.

"I..." he began, his voice curiously fading. There was so much he wanted to say to her that he didn't know where to start first. He smiled nervously, and tried again. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," she mumbled. Jamie shifted his weight from one foot to the other, thinking of something else to say to further the conversation.

"I got a cupcake at the bakery for you," Jamie mentioned. "Did you get it?"

"I did, thanks," she answered. Her inexpressive demeanor persisted.

"I hope it tasted all right," he added.

"Like heaven," Cupcake responded. Her expression suddenly changed as she answered, subtle but still noticeable. It was like a ray of light shining through a crack in the wall she built up around herself. She still didn't smile, but her eyes softened to something hopeful.

Pippa, still standing to the side, shifted her eyes between the two other teens. She liked how the scene in front of her was about to unfold. Interrupting the silence with the clearing of her throat, she said with a sly smile, "Well... I should be going home now." She tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, and proceeded to explain, "I still need to go over my speech one last time for tomorrow's ceremony..."

Pippa turned to the other freshman. "Jamie? I'll see you tomorrow afternoon." The boy nodded in response. Pippa glanced uneasily in Cupcake's direction, hesitantly stepping towards Jamie before giving him a quick hug.

Seeing the exchange caused a harrowing reaction in Cupcake, like a pinched nerve or an electrocution through her body. She blinked, eyes wide, as she shook her head from the frightening sensation. Then, feeling her heart rate slowly returning to its normal resting state, Cupcake was able regain her composure. Fortunately, neither of the two other teens noticed her odd behavior. What was that about?

"It's so good to see you again, Cupcake!" Pippa cried in glee, grasping Cupcake in the tightest hug she ever gave to the older girl. The sudden show of affection caught Cupcake off guard, and she nearly lost her balance in the process.

"It's, um, good to see you, too..." Cupcake murmured awkwardly, realizing she had said the same thing when she first ran into Pippa.

"See you, Pippa," Jamie gave his farewell as Pippa pushed her way through the door, smiling and waving at them while she exited.

Pippa's expendable energy seemed to have left with her, as the pair of teens stood there in awkward silence for a good minute before either one of them dared to speak. Cupcake couldn't blame him. What would someone say to a sick friend who hadn't been seen for weeks?

"So..." he started warily.

"So...?" Cupcake repeated uncertainly. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue. There was yet another brief moment of silence as Jamie gave her a compelling look, as if an idea had struck him.

"You still want to hang out?" Jamie suggested. "Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow..." she repeated with completely unreadable tone and expression.

He smiled uneasily, as if she wasn't going to give a favorable answer. "Is that a yes?"

"Yes..." she answered slowly, then the pace of her speech began to pick up when she requested, "Would it be all right if we meet at your house?"

"Yeah," Jamie confirmed, but added honestly, "Well, I was hoping I could walk to you. I mean, you haven't been well..."

"I'll be fine," Cupcake insisted. "I need to move around after being cooped up in bed for a whole month."

"Good thing that February is so short," Jamie attempted to joke. Cupcake tried to smile to make him feel good about his sense of humor, but it faltered. He didn't let him bother him. "Say, eleven o'clock?" he suggested.

"Works for me," Cupcake agreed.

He smiled at her, but it wasn't his usual carefree smile. It was tired and rueful, yet relieved and lighthearted at the same time. "I'm glad you're feeling better, Cupcake," he voiced.

She sighed, and her weariness reached her eyes. Tilting her head to the side, she responded, "Me too."

"Later," Jamie said as he parted, turning towards the exit.

"See you tomorrow," she called out. His smile eased into something more natural and familiar.

Cupcake watched Jamie walk out of the bookstore, unsure of the emotions she felt in that moment. It was a delightful, stressful, wistful, and dreadful feeling all knotted together in her stomach. She almost didn't believe that the past half-hour actually happened. It seemed too good to be true, but Cupcake knew that nothing was more surreal than reality.

Cupcake hurried home, wordlessly giving her mother a kiss on the cheek when she arrived. As quickly as she came, she was gone, retreating to her bedroom. Her closet door and the drawers to her dresser flew open. What on Earth was she going to wear tomorrow? Running her fingers through her hair, Cupcake took a deep breath. This was stupid. Jamie wouldn't care what she looked like, so neither should she.

She could hardly soothe her frayed nerves. Tomorrow would be the day where she had Jamie all to herself. If this had happened several months ago, she would have felt all giddy inside about being near her crush alone for several hours. She honestly did feel all jittery on the inside, but another dark feeling began to cloud over the more hopeful and optimistic emotions.

"You're getting worse. I'm worried."

Cupcake knew Jamie all too well, that his term of "hanging out" really meant playing therapy. She didn't want to tell him what was going on, that the sleeping pills weren't working, and the nightmares kept occurring. If she told about the sick pleasure she found in her darkened terror, she would look mental. Jamie was bound to tell someone about her. His mom or her mom would most likely be the first ones to be told.

"You think you can do it all," Cupcake remembered criticizing him, shortly after the start of the new year. She was infuriated with Jamie. He always had to act like a hero to everyone, all the time. "Save everyone from their problems." If she said that she was fine, then he should let it go.

"I want to help you."

A streak of white and blue past her window, but when Cupcake looked over her shoulder, she didn't see anything there. She shrugged it off and stepped towards the open closet, gently closing the door. Her hand was still rested on the white frame when a voice seemed to have popped into her head.

"You've got to give the kid some credit. He's the only one looking out for you. Who else is doing that for you?"

Cupcake whipped her head around to the window, but still saw nothing there. She thought for a moment that maybe, just maybe, the voice wasn't coming from inside her mind. It was a gruff yet playful voice, ringing clear within the empty space of the room.

"You can't see me anymore, can you? Sorry, kid. Guess I should've been looking after you like Jamie has."

Cupcake moved towards the half-opened window, delicately placing her hand on the sill when a cold front blew in. She wrapped her arms around herself before deciding to close the window.

"Well..." the voice said, sounding a little muffled against the glass. "See you, 'cake." Ice crystals suddenly swirled across the glassy surface in a beautiful, fern-like pattern. Cupcake traced the markings with her fingertips, melting a little from her warmth.

An image of snowfall in her bedroom tried to form in her mind's eye, but it quickly faded. Shutting her eyes, she tried picturing it again, trying to remember if it was from a dream, a memory, or pure imagination. Knowing all of the health problems she had been going through, she wouldn't be surprised at all if she was hallucinating.

Faint visions appeared from behind her eyelids. Delicate snowflakes dusting her nose, the rush of the cold morning wind rushing past her ears as she sped along an icy path, bright gold light surrounding her in images of dinosaurs and unicorns, then... nothing. Slowly, she opened her eyes. That must have been some crazy dream, all right.

As the afternoon hours passed, Cupcake looked through the photo albums. All she saw were the familiar faces of her friends, but nothing that triggered her memory. She had been forgetting things a lot, and she couldn't figure out why.

There was a photo of them when they were between the age of ten and eleven, where Jamie's tooth was missing. A hazy vision of him getting clobbered with a rogue couch. Another snapshot made her visualize herself rapturously chasing her friends with the head of a snowman she built. Why were all of these daydreams seem so important?

Looking through her collection of photographs, trying to trigger lost memories, Cupcake hadn't even noticed how dark it became outside. The time on her alarm clock finally caught her attention. It was eleven o'clock. Twelve more hours until she'd be at Jamie's house. There was a knock on the door, and quietly it opened. Her mother peeked her head through.

"You're still up?" she asked, sounding a little surprised.

"Sorry, Mom..." she apologized tiredly.

"It's fine," she assured, giving her a quick kiss good night. "Just don't stay awake too much later."

"'kay," the girl complied, smiling softly at the show of affection. "Night, Mom."

"Good night, my little Cupcake..."

Shutting one of the photo albums, Cupcake left it on her nightstand. She turned off her lamp and crawled underneath the covers, grabbing a photo frame from her nightstand before settling in. She studied the image for a long moment, tracing her finger along the edge, then hugged it close to her chest. She didn't know what to expect tomorrow, heart racing at the thought of the unknown. Cupcake was practically dreading eleven o'clock.

But the time came, and suddenly Cupcake found herself in front of Jamie's house. Feeling nearly petrified, she almost didn't bother to knock or ring the doorbell. When she struck up the nerve raise her hand, the door instantaneously opened. Cupcake turned white just before she was greeted by Jamie's smiling face.

"Hey! Come on in," Jamie welcomed. Cupcake, too terrified to say anything back, followed him in soundlessly. "Sorry, it's kind of dull around here today," he apologized with a sheepish grin, ready to lead her upstairs.

They sat in his bedroom, with Jamie hanging off the side of his bed, and Cupcake on the floor, resting her back against the side. Abby had been in the room earlier, curled next to Cupcake as the teenage girl stroked the greyhound to sleep. She woke up and ran out of the room, though, when she heard Sophie come in from playing out in the backyard.

Jamie didn't mention a single word about the nightmares. It was so startling that Cupcake nearly accused him for not asking, but she managed to keep her mouth shut. It didn't seem to matter much, anyway. The shadowed man didn't visit her in her dreams that night.

They talked about things with little importance. Jamie told her a funny story about Claude and Caleb, or something that happened to Monty at school a couple of days ago. Cupcake didn't have much to say, being nowhere but her bedroom for most of the time. Though she still contributed to the conversation, sharing little known facts about herself before she and Jamie became friends.

Jamie offered a box of red licorice to her, which she politely declined, so he helped himself, currently gnawing on one of the chewy candies. He held a half-eaten stick in his hand out to her, as if it were a microphone, and made up silly questions for her to answer, such as, "If you could change your name, what would it be?"

After some thought, she shrugged. "Everyone already calls me Cupcake," she reasoned. "So I guess I've already changed my name, kind of."

"True," Jamie responded. He paused to think. "I think I'd change my name to Dakota or something. Don't know why, it just sounds cool."

"I like the name Keeran," Cupcake mused. "It's an Irish name meaning 'little dark one'." She gotten very quiet, and so did the space around her. "My dad was Irish..."

Cupcake was quiet for what seemed like a long period of time. She stared out into an empty space in the room. Jamie watched her ruefully for a while. He waited for her to say more, but she was being increasingly reclusive.

"It's okay to miss him," he told her. "I miss my dad too, sometimes."

Her voice was faint and wistful, "What was your dad like?"

"Well..." he started, trying to remember. His eyebrows scrunched together in thought. "He had an open soul. He was quirky, and definitely wasn't the most perfect dad, but he loved us and was always supportive of us. He was the best." There was a moment of silence between them while Jamie thoughtfully twirled the licorice stick in between his fingers. "My mom says I turned out a lot like him." He shrugged. "That's all I really remember. Sophie wasn't even crawling when he passed away."

The conversation seemed to cease in that moment, the both of them saying nothing in exchange to each other, until Cupcake softly spoke up, "Maybe when I grow up, I'll have a son named Keeran."

Jamie laughed. Then he got an excited look in his large, round eyes. "Yeah, and I'll have one named Dakota," he declared enthusiastically. "It'll probably the closet thing I can get to cloning myself."

"You're weird, you know that, right?" Cupcake pointed out.

"Hey!" he shouted playfully before they started laughing together.

Their laughter died down. The both of them caught themselves contently staring at each other for longer than what was considered to be comfortable. Cupcake was the first to break eye contact, embarrassedly adjusting her sitting position on the floor. Jamie pushed himself up onto his knees, and swung his legs to the edge of the bed.

"I should go home..." Cupcake decided, abruptly standing up.

"I'll walk you out," Jamie provided, quickly following her out of the room.

They walked down the stairs in silence. Jamie unlocked the door, and held it open for Cupcake. She took one step out of the house, hesitating to continue on down the drive. She turned around, facing his direction.

"Jamie?" she called faintly, an unusual mixture of emotions flickered behind her eyes. Gratitude and melancholy swirled together as one feeling.

He watched her curiously. "Hmm?"

"I, um, thanks," she said finally.

"You're welcome," he simply answered back, a satisfied grin warming on his face.

"I needed that." Cupcake expressed sincerely. "That was more fun than I had in a really long time."

He smiled proudly at her. "I'm glad to help, Cupcake."

"Well... goodbye." She bowed her head and turned away, barely moving an inch when a single request stopped her.

"Wait..." Jamie said suddenly, motioning with his hands for her to pause. Cupcake heeded, turning herself back around. "Could you stay over a little longer? 'cause Pippa's meeting up with me later... You want to hang out with us?"

Cupcake's stare grew cold at the sound of Pippa's name. Her contempt for the other girl grew stronger with every night. Pippa was always trying to steal Jamie from her. Giving him kisses on the cheek, and making sure that Cupcake was watching when she did. Pippa turned and smiled wickedly, baring hideously sharp teeth. Her evil eyes flashed golden before returning to its natural shade of brown.

Pain and betrayal struck Cupcake right through her heart. She had never seen Pippa like this before, didn't know she could be this way. Yet her face was something familiar. Haunting... "I'd say, 'sweet dreams', but there aren't any left," Pippa sneered, her head rested on Jamie's shoulder.

No, wait. That never happened. That was in a horrible dream. Wasn't it? It felt so real... She shook her head, trying to clear the ill feelings she held towards Pippa. She couldn't understand how she came to hate her so much. Pippa was one of her friends. When she saw Pippa at the bookstore, she seemed so happy to see her. She was loving and caring. She was even trying to encourage Cupcake's relationship with Jamie, not try to take him for herself.

Or was _that_ the dream?

"It's tragic, isn't it?" a voice close behind her muttered. Everything around her seemed to turn dark and grey. The touch of the speaker's long, slender fingers wrapped around her shoulders. His lips came dangerously close to her ear, hot air blown against the shell with every word spoken. "You trusted her with your most heartfelt secret. She _said_ you could trust her. And what does she do? Goes behind your back and sticks a knife in it. Then steals your man away right in front of your eyes. What kind of friend would do that?"

"But... it didn't happen that way, did it?" she reasoned, barely turning her head to the side in attempt to see the figure behind her. The conflicting emotions she felt were subtly etched into her features. She kept her gaze low.

"You tell me, my dear, sweet Cupcake..." it whispered, fingers tightening on her shoulders. "Did it?" Its grip let go of her, and fell away from her.

"Cupcake?" Jamie's voice snapped her out of her trance. The scenery around her was bright again. She glanced over her shoulder. Nothing was there except for the empty street. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said, shaking her head out of her daze. Her eyes locked onto Jamie's. "What were we talking about?"

He looked a little concerned. Then slowly, he answered, "About if you wanted to hang out with Pippa and me."

"No, but thanks," Cupcake politely declined, trying her best to hide her bitterness. "See you tomorrow."

"See you," Jamie said, giving her a small wave. He let out a defeated sigh. Honestly, he felt a little disappointed. Was she jealous? He had other friends, too. Worse yet, he and Cupcake had the same set of friends. So why be jealous?

Cupcake was out of sight, but Jamie still lingered by the open door. He thought pensively about a few things, one of which was hoping that he made any bit of difference in Cupcake's life. Though his thoughts didn't venture too far. Out of nowhere, Pippa sprinted up to the front door.

"Jamie!" she cried out in glee, attacking him with a hug.

The boy nearly lost his balance by Pippa's surprise visit. "Whoa!" He promptly regained his balance. "Pippa!" he exclaimed, letting go of their friendly embrace to look at her. "You're early!"

"I know, sorry!" she apologized, adjusting the fit of her ivory coat.

"Wow," Jamie said breathlessly, observing her formal attire from head to toe. "You look amazing!"

"Oh, gosh!" Pippa cried out, all flustered. She pushed back her bangs, and spun herself around. The skirt of her lilac dress flittered in the air. "I feel really foolish dressed up like this!" she laughed. "But I couldn't wait to tell you!"

"I take it that the ceremony went well?" he asked, amused by her enthusiasm.

"Better than that!" she declared. "You won't believe what just happened!"

"I guess I won't unless you tell me," Jamie joked, nudging her on the arm with his elbow.

"Okay, okay!" she laughed.

"Well?" he asked eagerly.

"My paper wasn't the best in the whole school," Pippa excitedly explained. "It was the best in the entire district!"

"That's awesome, Pippa!" Jamie cheered for her.

"Wait, there's more!" she interjected, barely unable to stand still from the excitement. "I got a scholarship!"

"We should go celebrate," Jamie suggested. "Dinner out at Ramsey. Want me to call the boys?"

"I," Pippa declared exuberantly, "_love_ you!" She leaned over and gave Jamie a friendly kiss on his cheek.

"Ew," he joked, wiping the kiss away.

"Hey!" Pippa laughed. "Don't wipe away my affections!"

"Fine," he said, returning a quick peck on her cheek.

"Ew!" she teased back, her hand pressed over the mark.

"I'll make reservations," Jamie told her. "See you at six, seven?"

She nodded before running off. "Make that six-thirty. I'll see you tonight!"

Jamie laughed before shutting the door, ready to carry on with his day. Little did they know, hiding safely behind a parked car on the street, Cupcake had seen their whole exchange. Regrettably, she had seen the moment differently in her eyes.

* * *

The contents of her vanity were thrown off in one angry sweep. Pictures from the various photo albums she had pulled out earlier were torn right down the middle, and were left crumpled on the ground. Others, most left inside the albums, were scratched on the surface, leaving white angry marks on the glossy finish. The photo frames she had propped on her nightstand were thrown down to her floor one at a time. The third of four frames, a photograph of her and that treacherous monster of a girl, was smashed violently to the ground. The frame nearest to her bedside stood alone.

Her eyes seethed through the photo smiling from behind the glass of the frame, of her and the boy she thought she loved. She spent countless hours staring at the image, fantasizing what it would be like to be wanted. Now she would never know. The picture held so much promise. They were good friends, but could be so much more. She thought she had a chance. Not anymore. Raising her fist, her knuckles came into contact with the glass sheet.

The glass of the frame shattered, shards cutting into the flesh of her hand. Cupcake howled in pain, cradling her fist tenderly. She collapsed onto the floor, her back leaning against the side of the bed, and her legs bent at the knees. Blood dripped in between her fingers and down her palm, splattering the white satin of her nightgown. She made a sound of distress when she saw the stains littering her best outfit.

A large shadow emerged from underneath the bed. Her eyes snapped towards his. Streams of tears ceaselessly rushed down her cheeks. She continued to stare as a wet sob shuddered through her chest. It took a few moments before she managed to speak without stuttering.

"Make me beautiful! All I want is to be beautiful!" she pleaded, tears of desperation glistening in her eyes.

Pitch smiled wolfishly at her. "Oh, I can make you much more than that..."

Cupcake's crying died down as she stared at him with wide, eyes. Subtle tremors coursed through her, caused by the aftermath of her outbreak. Her voice was low and unsteady, "How?"

He reached for her injured hand and held it gently with the lightest touch of his fingertips. The pad of his forefinger glided over a gash, then another, and another. As he continued to run soft, circular patterns over each damaged knuckle, the pain slowly faded. Cupcake gasped, pulling her hand back. She looked over the surface of the broken skin. It was completely healed, as if her hand was never wounded in the first place.

"I can make you a queen," Pitch proposed, voice hushed in enlivenement. He glanced at a torn photo near the girl's bare feet, then looked back at her. There was a subtle look of amusement playing on his lips, but the girl didn't recognize it. "What can _he_ give you?"

Cupcake slowly tore her eyes away from him, letting her attention fixate on the abandoned image left on the hardwood floor. Nothing, she thought. He could give her nothing. A tear escaped from each eye, rolling merciless down her cheeks. Pitch reached out to her, wiping away one tear with his thumb.

"Be my queen, and all of your suffering will end. Be my queen, and you will be the most desirable woman in the entire universe. Be my queen..." The other half of the photograph was crumpled to the side. "And you can make her pay for what she's done."

Cupcake hung her head, forcing down every tear that terrorized her. More tears broke free, dripping down onto her nightgown. Losing that last bit of hope, trust in someone. Loving someone who could never love her back ... It hurt.

"Dearest Cupcake..." He extended his hand out to her, waiting for her acceptance. "What will it be?"

She stared at it, deeply considering the offer. Still, something held her back. This wasn't right. Something wasn't right about this, about him. She sensed that she knew him from somewhere before, and that she shouldn't trust him. A distant memory of black sand engulfing all of Burgess flickered in her mind, but then it was gone like twilight.

Her hand was raised to her face, studying every detail of it. It was completely flawless. Slowly lifting her hand, she placed it in his. The dim light in her bedroom grew dark as he led her into the shadows.

* * *

End of Chapter Two

* * *

Author's Note: I am deeply sorry that my crazy work schedule delayed this update many, many times. Getting this chapter done was a nightmare, but I hope this makes up for the long wait: this chapter has a word count of 10,231 (over twenty-three pages long). In contrast, chapter one was only 1,255 words (three pages). The currently incomplete chapter three will be longer than chapter one, but probably not as nearly as long as this chapter.

I'm also considering adding Jack Frost to the character list, as he will be an important secondary character later in the story. Although, none of the Guardians will make their official appearance until chapter four. Originally, Jack wasn't even supposed to pop up in this chapter, but I'm really satisfied how it worked out.

* * *

18 October 2013


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